Many people prowl round Mount Sinai. Their speech is blurred, either they are garrulous or they shout or
they are taciturn. But none of them comes down a broad, newly made, smooth road that does its own part in
making one's strides long and swifter.

Everything came to his aid during the construction work. Foreign workers brought the marble blocks, trimmed
and fitted to one another. The stones rose and placed themselves according to the gauging motions of his fingers.
No building ever came into being as easily as did this temple--or rather, this temple came into being as a temple
should. Except that, to wreak a spite or to desecrate or destroy it completely, instruments obviously of a
magnificent sharpness had been used to scratch on every stone--from what quarry had they come?--for an eternity
outlasting the temple, the clumsy scribblings of senseless children's hands, or rather the entities of barbaric mountain dwellers.

I ran past the first watchman. Then I was horrified, ran back and said to the watchman: "I ran through
here while you were looking the other way." The watchman gazed ahead of him and said nothing. "I suppose
I really oughtn't to have done it," I said. The watchman still said nothing. "Does your silence indicate
permission to pass?". . .

The Messiah will come as soon as the most unbridled individualism of faith becomes possible--when there
is no one to destroy this possibility and no one to suffer its destruction; hence the graves will open
themselves. This, perhaps, is Christian doctrine too, applying as much to the actual presentation of the
example to be emulated, which is an individualistic example, as to the symbolic presentation of the
resurrection of the Mediator in the single individual.

The Messiah will come only when he is no longer necessary; he will come only on the day after his arrival;
he will come, not on the last day, but on the very last.